


Gingers, Cats, and Ginger Cats

by artificiallifecreator



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Canon-Compliant, Cats, Gen, Ghosts, feel better tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2793455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificiallifecreator/pseuds/artificiallifecreator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The afterlife had far more cats than Chuck was expecting. </p>
<p>(Rated for Chuck's language)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two A.M.

「Oi!」

Sìqì cracks open her eyes, glares at the cat on her pillow, and sits up.

Another cat snaps and leaps off to who-knows where.

Sìqì rubs her eyes and smiles. 「Good morning, Chuckles, what can I do for you?」

「My old man's not taking good enough care of Max.」 Chuck nudges three more cats from the end of her bed (much to their displeasure) and sits down heavily .

「He's kinda busy running a Shatterdome,」 Sìqì remarks.

「That's not good enough!」 Chuckles snarls.

Sìqì throws a pinch of white stuff at him from the dish on her nightstand.

「The fuck was that?」

「Salt.」 Sìqì lies back down. 「I don't talk to angry ghosts, I cleanse them. Calm down or fuck off.」

「I thought ye were supposed to help ghosts.」

「You don't want help, not yet.」

「Then why do I feel shitty about my dad?」

「'cause you and your dad were pretty shitty to each other.」

「Th' hell do you know?」 Chuck sneers. 「We never even talked.」

「Boohoo, I regret all the things I never said. Legitimate woes, not a good enough reason to be an asshole to me.」

「I don't have to deal with this.」

「Really.」This is gonna take a while. Up she goes! 「Who was the last person who talked to you? Max? Pretty good, but- oh, funny that, dogs can't converse in human.」

Chuck crosses his arms. 「So what?」

Sìqì counts to ten, and then to twenty for good measure, and lets out a slow breath. 「What's with the whole 'wing' thing? Isn't that a little 90s?」

「I was born in 2003.」

「Goddamnit, I hate talking to dead kids.」

「I'm not a kid!」

「I'm 27 in May and still aging. Six years older, Chuckles; you're a kid.」

「How the hell do you remember the 90s?」

「One word: reruns.」

Which is how they wind up watching Teen Angel (1997) for the rest of the night.

「I can't actually relate to any of this,」 says Chuckles.

「Neither can I, t'be honest.」 Sìqì turns off the TV, toys idly with a cat's ear. 「That was a waste of time.」

「I don't feel so shitty anymore.」

「Then it did some good, I suppose. Why not you go hang out with Max for a bit so I can get a bit more sleep?」

「Mind if I stay here?」 

「So long as you keep your mouth shut and don't antagonize anyone, sure. Please?」

「I'll do my best.」


	2. A Time for Cats

Which happened to be  **right** now, if you're Sìqì.

Not so much if you're Chuckles.

「You have /got to be kidding me.」

Sìqì, reclining with a comic, glances over her shoulder. 「Oh. Chuckles, Tall-Grass-in-Sun, Mom's familiar. Tall-Grass-in-Sun, Chuckles.」   
「That's a fucking tiger!」

「A fucking 340 kilo tiger. Now sit down. This's all holographic and you're wrecking the light.」

「There's no way that's only- 340  **kilos**? That's seven times as big as you!」

「Uh, yea? Makes for a great pillow, eh, boy?」

Tall-Grass-in-Sun purrs.

The fucking floor vibrates.

「How the hell'd your Mom wind up with a fucking tiger?」

「Same way I got an 80 kilo cranky Australian, I imagine.」 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Tigers don't purr. Unless they're ghosts.)


	3. And So It Begins

「Up ‘n at ‘em Chuckles!」 Sìqì sticks a scrap of paper in his face. 「Your FIRST assignment. Go around to this address and convince the cat spirit to stop sleeping on her master's chest. It's freaking the old man out.」

Chuck returns later with an armful of scratches and a face full of cat.

「What. Do. I. Do.」

「Um.」 Sìqì fights to keep a straight face. 「Well. You could return the cat...」

「She. Will. Keep. Sleeping.」

「Then Chuckles, I suppose you've just got yourself a cat. Until you can train it otherwise.」 Sìqì fishes a toy mouse from her pocket and jingles it.

「MEROW!」

「FUCK!」

Sìqì returns her hand to her pocket.

The cat goes right through the mouse and tries pawing at it.

「The fuck did you not do that sooner?」

「Because it was hilarious?」

Chuck goes rather funny coloured.

「I will pinch salt at you,」 she warns.

Chuck seethes.

「Anyway, awesome work. If you would, collect thy energy, we have a 'lost persons' agency to finally clear out!」


	4. So I Heard...

Chuck’s fifth assignment was to convince a herd of child-sized spirits that hanging around a bereaved mother was not cool, and returns to the shrine to find a joss sticky note on the gate:

Shatterdome Park.   
No recent activity in the area; fix that.   
Act ghostly.   
Yes, you are my trained monkey.   
Have fun, Chuckles.   
\- Your lord and master, Sìqì

Chuck crumples the note and drops it in a burner. As it curls and disintegrates, he sees a flash of red. And then felt something on his head.

Made of felt.

It’s a fez.

At least he'd long since mapped out the pipes. Next time she had a shower, Sìqì wouldn't get a drop of hot water.

But he keeps the fez. It’s cool.


	5. In Space

「I have the distinct impression that there's an increase in child ghosts,」 states Sìqì.

「You already know the answer,」 grunts Chuck, shuffling by with a box of cat spirits.

「Especially since there are, what, six kids with you?」

「They followed me!」

「Really.」

「I dropped off that Grampa's cat and there was a sprog trying to hide behind a lightpost. I come out, there are three of 'em. I do my rounds at Shatterdome Park and somehow they multiplied into eighteen!」

「You can take care of 'em then.」

Chuck doesn’t answer.

「Chuckles?」

「Eh? Hell no, I am not looking after kids.」

「Uh huh.」

Chuck doesn’t shoo away the children.


End file.
